


and nothing less

by unholyconfessions (orphan_account)



Series: endless shades [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Foursome - M/M/M/M, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Tommy Merlyn is Alive and Has No Shame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/unholyconfessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry's mindful of the two pairs of eyes on them, watching, narrowing the world to just that moment, right there.</p><p>[sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3816256">we want it all</a>.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	and nothing less

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, much like Tommy, I have no shame. 
> 
> This picks up right after the previous installment.
> 
> Happy reading! ;-)

It never occurred to Barry that his first date with Eddie would include being squished in the backseat of a cab with Tommy and Oliver, his fingers slipping under the hem of Eddie’s shirt as Eddie sucks his lower lip, trying to keep it PG solely for the cab driver’s sake.

They stumble out at Tommy’s after what seems like an eternity, each of them shoving a twenty in the driver’s hand and scrambling into the house without bothering to grab their change, never breaking contact.

Tommy and Oliver move skillfully up the stairs, the path to Tommy’s bedroom familiar to them. Barry follows their lead a little less gracefully, stumbling backwards onto the steps as Eddie kisses him, despite having been there more times than he can count.

(It was different, then. Tommy half-carried, half-pulled Barry up the stairs, his hands already working on Barry’s clothes before Barry could acknowledge his surroundings.)

Eddie breathes out a bubbly laugh against his mouth, his fingers finding the buttons on Barry’s shirt and almost ripping at the fabric as he tries to undo them and push Barry up the stairs at the same time. Barry has to stop to regain his balance, hand tightening around the handrail.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks, pulling back far enough that he can see the way Eddie wets his lips, his eyes falling to Barry’s bare chest. “Eddie, you don’t have to.”

Eddie shakes his head, utters a breathy, “I want this, Bar,” that crawls its way down Barry’s spine.

Barry nods back, breathless, and takes Eddie’s hand to lead him up the stairs, catching up to Tommy and Oliver as they stumble into Tommy’s room.

The bed is still unmade, one of Barry’s t-shirts forgotten there from the night before—when, strangely, nothing happened, except for Tommy and Oliver competing for the highest level of assholery as they watched Netflix, Barry sandwiched between them—and a dozen empty beer bottles sitting on the nightstand.

Barry shakes the thought away, his attention snapping back to Eddie as Eddie’s fingers work his belt loose. He’s mindful of two pairs of eyes on them, watching, narrowing the world to just that moment, right there, and nothing else.

Eddie drops to his knees and Barry leans against a dresser to keep his legs from getting weak, props himself up on his elbows to watch Eddie undo his jeans at such an unhurried pace that it can only be deliberate.

Barry’s eyes find Tommy’s before he can help it, and Tommy’s gaze trails down his body like it used to, when it was just them locked in that same bedroom throughout the night and it was Tommy’s mouth on him, hot and wet and—

Barry chokes out a breath as Eddie swallows around him, lets his eyes wander to Eddie’s cheeks hollowing around his cock before he picks his gaze up again and catches Tommy’s.

Oliver gives Tommy a curt nod, punctuated by a rough kiss, as if granting him a silent permission, and then Tommy’s walking in Barry’s direction, a familiar glint in his gaze, and dropping to his knees right next to Eddie.

“Oh— _oh_ ,” Barry breathes out as his brain processes the position he’s in before drawing a blank. 

Tommy stares up at Barry as his mouth joins Eddie’s, and Barry’s fingers curl into his palms every time their lips meet from either side of him. 

Barry sucks in a sharp breath, one that knocks his head back, and Eddie lets out a quiet moan. Barry glances up at the ceiling for a second, closes his eyes as someone licks a wide stripe up his cock and finds that spot that makes him bite down hard onto his cheek to keep his orgasm at bay. 

He opens his eyes when he hears the small sound Oliver makes from across the room, finds Oliver on the bed, eyes fixed on Eddie and Tommy, his shirt gone and his jeans open, a hand wrapped around himself.

“Fuck,” the word spills from Barry’s lips, and he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice, raw and deep, sticking to his throat like a bad cough as he watches Oliver’s arm tense and relax as he pumps his cock.

Oliver’s eyes rise from Eddie and Tommy to lock on Barry’s, a repressed groan escaping his chest around what sounds like Barry’s name, but Barry can’t be sure, can’t think clearly when Tommy and Eddie moan around him.

Tommy takes his time, explores every part of Barry that he knows will make Barry’s head spin, but not Eddie. Eddie’s rougher, faster, working at a pace that won’t make Barry last very long, but they find a rhythm, somehow.

Barry whimpers when the pace is broken by Tommy, opens his mouth to voice a protest that is swallowed by Tommy’s mouth on his. As Tommy grabs the back of his neck, Barry parts his lips without question, tastes himself on Tommy’s tongue and lets Tommy finish the job Eddie had started on his shirt, unbuttoning the rest of it and sliding it off his shoulders.

He returns the favor without looking, doesn’t have to look because he knows it by heart, and Tommy smiles at him as they pull away, gives him another kiss that doesn’t last long enough, makes Barry’s mouth chase after his.

“Tell me what you want.”

Barry wets his lips, grabs Tommy by his belt, fingers at work on the buckle, and breathes out, “You.” After a beat, when his cock hits the back of Eddie’s throat as if in retaliation, he amends “ _Eddie_.”

Eddie’s mouth leaves him with a dirty pop, makes him groan and curse under his breath as the sudden loss throws his mind into a whirl. At Tommy’s request, he removes what’s left of his clothes and helps Eddie do the same, moves on to Tommy without having to be told. 

Eddie’s mouth finds his neck while Tommy moves behind him, closes around his collarbone and up, teeth leaving marks that he knows will be there in the morning. Tommy tilts Barry’s head back with a hand over his cheek, takes his mouth again and bites down onto his lip hard enough to break skin.

Barry releases a moan wrapped around a breath, leans against Tommy’s chest as Tommy explores his mouth. He gasps into the kiss when Eddie’s teeth find his nipple; Tommy swallows the noise. 

Tommy’s fingers replace Eddie’s teeth as Eddie moves on down Barry’s chest, and Barry breaks the kiss to drop his head on Tommy’s shoulder and let out a shaky sigh.

He’s hot where Eddie’s teeth nip at his hip, where Tommy’s hand traces down his chest and finds his cock, guides him back into Eddie’s mouth. He can’t breathe, can’t think past the liquid _need_ that coils in his stomach.

“Is this what you want, _Bar_?” Tommy asks against the shell of Barry’s ear, his breath warm on Barry’s skin, and Barry nods, can’t bring himself to form a coherent sentence because Tommy doesn’t call him that, never has.

“Barry.”

Barry chokes on a gasp at the sound of Oliver’s voice. 

He’ll never get used to the way his body reacts to it, to that deep, unwavering, almost-breathless tone that’s reserved for moments like these; intimate, _theirs_.

“Look at me.”

Barry does as he’s told, picking his gaze up and letting it linger on Oliver’s frame. Oliver opens his legs wider, presses his lips together and wraps his hand more tightly around himself, closes his eyes.

Barry swallows and swallows again, can’t seem to keep his mouth from watering as he watches Oliver’s orgasm creeping closer. Oliver’s mouth falls open as sweat beads in the hollow of his throat, quiet, strangled moans escaping his chest as his fingers move faster, harder.

Another two, three strokes and he’s coming over his hand and stomach, letting out a groan that tips Barry over the edge with him.

“Oliver,” Barry breathes out as it hits him, his fingers finding Eddie’s hair and tugging hard.

Eddie swallows every drop, the muscles in his throat working around Barry until Barry’s knees are weak. He moves away from Barry after a beat, wipes at his mouth with the back of a hand.

He looks obscene like this: on his knees, lips swollen and red, hair messy from where Barry held on too tight.

Barry opens his mouth without knowing what to say, but doesn’t have the chance to say anything because Tommy flips him around and kisses him hard, possessive, like he used to and like he still does when Oliver’s the one to make Barry come like this.

“Bed, now,” Tommy says without pulling away, into Barry’s mouth, and Barry nods, breathes, lets Tommy push him until the back of his knees hit the mattress and they fall onto it in a tangle.

As Tommy presses against him, Barry wraps his legs around his waist as if they belong there. Tommy smiles against his mouth, one hand coming up to grab the back of Barry’s thigh and pull him closer.

The mattress shifts under their weight as Tommy moves against him, rocking slowly, sliding against Barry’s half-hard cock. Heat starts building up at the base of Barry’s spine again, a slow burn that makes him arch into Tommy, needing _more_.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Tommy says with a winded chuckle, kisses his jaw, his mouth, his temple.

Barry whimpers, curls his fingers into Tommy’s hair and brings him close, kisses him open-mouthed and eager, Tommy’s stubble scratching at his skin.

He loses himself in it for a moment, trapped in a memory of doing exactly this, exactly _like_ this: Tommy kissing him slow but rough, his fingers in Tommy’s hair while his other hand strokes down the curve of Tommy’s back, gathering droplets of sweat as it goes, silent promises lost in the motion.

And okay, _okay_ , maybe—this, whatever it is, that he has with Tommy—maybe it’s been over for a long time, but he misses it; misses the way Tommy feels against him when it’s just them, just Tommy and not Oliver, even though Oliver’s right there beside them, with Eddie.

Barry watches them, watches as Oliver lowers himself on top of Eddie much like Tommy did to him. Barry tilts his chin to the side to give Tommy access to his neck and Eddie runs his hand through Oliver’s short hair, as if guiding him as he kisses his way down Eddie’s chest.

Barry lets out a whimper as Oliver takes Eddie into his mouth in one movement, his lips closing around Eddie’s cock, making Eddie squirm and moan, head thrown back against the pillow Oliver had been leaning on moments before.

Barry closes his eyes shut, bites down onto his bottom lip as Tommy’s teeth sink into his shoulder, hard. 

“Is that what you want, Barry?” Tommy whispers against Barry’s ear, his hand reaching down to wrap around Barry’s cock and give it one long, lazy stroke. “Oliver?”

Barry lets out a strangled whimper, nods then shakes his head, can’t decide on an answer as Oliver straddles Eddie’s lap and slips two fingers past Eddie’s lips to wet them.

Tommy chuckles into the curve of his neck, whispers, “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Barry says, kisses Tommy before Tommy disappears into the bathroom.

He watches as Oliver works himself open above Eddie, arm reaching behind him in an angle that can’t be comfortable, but Oliver doesn’t seem to mind. 

Barry swallows as he moves closer, doesn’t know if the heat pooling in his stomach is arousal or something else. He’s never seen Oliver like this, never had him like this—not when he was with Tommy and not after, when this arrangement between the three of them became more than occasional.

He forces himself to look away from Oliver as Tommy comes back, but the uneasiness doesn’t fade until Tommy kisses him again, one hand cupping the side of his neck. Barry takes the condoms and lube from Tommy’s hand without breaking contact, throws one to Oliver.

“You okay?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah, fine.” Barry meets Oliver’s gaze as he pulls Tommy down and straddles him, thighs on either side of Tommy’s hips.

Tommy raises his eyebrows at him as he makes quick work of the condom and lube, places both his hands on the headboard as he lowers himself on Tommy’s cock. He stops when the pain is too much, props himself up with one hand on Tommy’s chest.

“I’m fine,” Barry murmurs before Tommy can ask. He looks at Eddie and then at Oliver. Oliver has one hand on Eddie’s chest while he strokes himself with the other, fingers still coated in Eddie’s spit. Barry swallows a groan and turns back to Tommy in time to see Tommy smirk. “I’m fine,” he echoes.

He moves slowly once Tommy’s fully inside him, uses the headboard for support as Tommy wraps a hand around his cock to ease the pain. Oliver moans beside him and he picks up the pace, uses a hand to reach for Oliver and tug him into a kiss. He half-misses Oliver’s mouth the first time, almost loses tempo, but then Oliver grabs the back of his head and they fall into a strange kind of synchronicity.

He smiles against Oliver’s mouth as Oliver’s gasps become shorter and erratic, considers the battle won once he reaches for Oliver’s cock and runs a thumb over the head, feels the obscene amount of precome there. Barry draws his hand back and Oliver lets out a desperate growl.

Oliver rides Eddie faster, doesn’t dare look away from Barry as Barry takes his thumb into his mouth and licks it clean, leaving no trace of Oliver. Tommy and Eddie moan in unison. Barry doesn’t have time to react before Tommy slides out of him and his back hits the mattress.

Tommy waits for his nod of approval before sliding back inside him, more easily this time. Barry whimpers as Tommy fills him, crosses his legs behind Tommy’s back to keep him in place, kisses him. Tommy breathes against him, shares the taste of Oliver on his tongue as he slides back and forth, sucks on the underside of Barry’s jaw like he always does when he’s close.

“Fuck,” Tommy whispers into the curve of Barry’s neck. Barry asks him to go harder and he nods, kisses Barry and mutters, “Fuck, okay.”

Beside them, Eddie chokes out a startled moan around Barry’s name. Barry blindly grabs his hand, lets Eddie’s nails sink into his skin until it hurts as Eddie comes undone. A moan rolls in Oliver’s throat and he sinks onto Eddie one more time, sweat dripping down his chest.

His come coats Eddie’s stomach and Barry opens his mouth out of instinct, looks up to lock eyes with Oliver. Oliver runs a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, letting Eddie slip out of him without a word, and when Barry whispers Oliver’s name under his breath, just as Tommy hits his prostate, Tommy tenses above him, a groan stifled by Barry’s shoulder as he comes.

Tommy slides out and rolls to the side, to the spot between Barry and Eddie, and lets out a deep, steady breath. It isn’t long before a cocky grin breaks out on his face. He turns his head to look at Barry and Barry shakes his head but smiles back, comfortably spent.

“I’m gonna head into the shower,” Tommy says, giving Barry a quick kiss. “You coming?”

“Nah. I’ll just,” Barry replies, nodding to the side, leaves the sentence unfinished, sits up.

Tommy gives him a knowing smile and leaves to the bathroom, takes Oliver’s hand in his as Oliver presses a kiss to the back of his neck. Barry bites down onto bottom his lip as Oliver gives him a reserved smile before closing the door, ignores the urge to join them, and turns to Eddie.

“So,” he says, chuckles.

Eddie laughs. “That was something.”

“Tell me about it.” Barry swallows. He watches as Eddie wets his lips, can’t think of a word to say as he considers the possibility of Eddie not being into this. 

He averts his eyes, panic slowly rising in his throat, and pinches the bridge of his nose. This wasn’t what he had in mind at all, but when it comes to Tommy and Oliver. . .

“Allen.” Barry looks at Eddie again, inhales a shaky breath as Eddie takes his hand and entwines their fingers closely together. “I wanted this. Don’t overthink it.”

“Really?” He raises his eyebrows. “You don’t think it’s weird? Me and Tommy and Oliver?”

Eddie leans in and brushes their noses together before kissing Barry, pulls away as he whispers, “No."

Barry chuckles, kisses him again, mutters, "Good."


End file.
